


The Only Place

by ctmts



Category: Parks and Recreation
Genre: Alternate Universe, F/M, Family, Fluff, Parent-Child Relationship, Romance, Triplets
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-12-04
Updated: 2017-01-15
Packaged: 2018-09-06 13:00:20
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,748
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8752555
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ctmts/pseuds/ctmts
Summary: A series of non-linear chapters and drabbles. AU where Ben is a sexy, silver haired Professor of History and Leslie is a political biographer and city councillor.





	1. The First Visit

**Author's Note:**

> I need more of Ben in tweed jackets and this will fulfil a solid fantasy of mine.  
> Using these lil' drabbles as procrastination tools to get me through my last year of studying, and to help get the creative juices flowing. Be kind!

Sonia’s grip on her mother’s hand tightened as they quickly disembarked from the bus. They paused on the pavement so Leslie could tighten the scarf wrapped around her young daughter’s neck. It was a typical English winter morning, overcast, with a chill in the air. The cold, however, did not affect Leslie, the excitement that burned in her chest distracted her from the temperature completely.

“How much further?” Whined Sonia, tugging on her mother’s coat sleeve as Leslie consulted the map on her phone.

“Not far, sweetheart,” she asserted, taking her daughter’s hand as they walked along the tree-lined street towards the large stone archway.

“It’s so old, Mommy, look how old it is!” The little girl exclaimed as they approached the grounds. They made their way into a large courtyard, the ornate historic buildings surrounding them. Young people scurried around them quickly, arms full of books and coffee cups. Leslie suddenly felt a wave of nostalgia wash over her.

“Some of these buildings are as old as America honey,” Leslie replied, stopping briefly to consult her map again, and take in her surroundings.

They approached a grand stone building at the corner of the square, climbed the steps and Leslie slowly pulled open the grand oak door to allow Sonia to scurry in before her. Leslie’s shoes clicked lightly on the marble floor as they made their way across the lobby to the reception area. The woman at the desk looked up slowly through a pair of oversized reading glasses.

“Hello, how may I help you?” She asked curtly, Sonia giggled, still hugely amused by the English accents she was unaccustomed to hearing.

“Hello there!” Leslie beamed at the woman, “My name is Leslie Knope, this is my daughter Sonia and we are here to see my husband, Professor Wyatt.”

The woman’s blank expression slowly turned into a smile, “Oh yes, Miss Knope you may take the stairs to the second floor, his office is located at the end of the hall on the right, room D6.”

At these words Sonia impatiently bounded towards the staircase, Leslie issued a quick “Thank you,” before following her daughter and chasing her up the stairs.

When they reached the end of the hallway, Leslie took a deep breath and readied herself to knock on the office door, but her impatient daughter burst through the doorway screaming, “Daddy” at the top of her lungs.

He had his back to the doorway, scribbling furiously on a large pad, his hair was sticking out in 40 different directions, exactly how she liked it. He turned in his chair and grinned as he was quickly embraced by his nine-year-old daughter. “My girls!” He beamed, “Welcome to Oxford.”


	2. Passionate about binders.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hi.  
> I am bad at consistency.
> 
> So I have this little universe swirling around in my head.  
> This fic is going to be super non-linear, I just wanted to write about their past.  
> Author Leslie and Prof. Ben have an awesome life together.
> 
> This Chapter is set 20 whole years before the first one. Oops.
> 
> Please give me feedback, I'd really love it. Creative Writing has never been my strong suit.  
> I'm really enjoying myself though.

Indiana State University 1997.

\--

 

She had to focus on the negatives. 

The annoying way he draws out the word ‘and’ when he’s trying to link his points together. 

The weird crooked way his nose sits in the middle of his dumb face. 

The unattractive squint he does because he cannot hide his displeasure when a student gives a wrong answer. 

The fact that she can’t read his dumb chicken scratch handwriting whenever he writes on the whiteboard. 

The way their eyes lock together when she contributes in his classes, in a manner that seems only reserved for her. 

His tight pants that show off his perfectly rounded backside. 

No. 

Dammit. 

This was not supposed to happen. Because Leslie just needed those 20 credits and she did not need to become distracted by her ridiculously cute 'Political Histories of the 1800s' tutor. Leslie had already locked down her five-year plan in several idea binders, and she definitely did not leave room for dark haired, skinny, academic men named Benjamin. 

Leslie never got distracted by professors in the past, but since the original professor of her class took a last minute sabbatical, and she was introduced to Dr. -please just call me Ben- Wyatt, she had been spiralling. It's not creepy though, she keeps telling herself. She heard some of the girls murmuring about how he's only 30, and Tom told her that you can date someone if you half their age and add seven. She's 22, the minimum acceptable age for him. So it totally works. Not that she would be thinking about dating him. It's just that it _would_ be totally kosher.

She was going to graduate in six months and travel straight to New York, where she would look up at number 56, West 37th Street and breathe in its history. Because within four years, Leslie Knope will have written and published her extensive five-part biography series about Eleanor Roosevelt, and will have nestled herself neatly at the top of the New York Times Bestsellers list. 

The fifth year will be spent between learning how to scuba-dive in Belize; have several celebratory dance parties with spectacular nurse and beautiful sunbeam, Ann Perkins; and writing her next and super highly anticipated political biography. 

“Okay everybody, so I think we should just leave it there. If anyone wants to meet with me to discuss ideas for their upcoming paper just shoot me an email, I believe I’m meeting with Leslie just now?” 

At the mention of her name, Leslie snaps out of her self-assurance daydream, and quickly blurts out, “Yes, uhuh I am doing this.” She is suddenly very aware that she wasn’t paying attention to the last five minutes of her class, and curses herself because she knows she’s better than this. 

She watches him smirk at her flustered remark, as students begin slowly filtering out of the room. A few linger behind to ask Ben some questions, so Leslie pulls out her phone to respond to Shauna that she will indeed be attending the students v. staff quiz at the campus bar that evening. 

When they are finally alone he remarks that another tutor was using the room, so it would be better if they spoke in his office. He holds the door open for her and she slips out past him, but manages to hit him in the chest with the full force of her messenger bag that she swings over her shoulder. 

“Oh my goodness I am so sorry!” She exclaims as he rubs his chest. 

“What do you have in there?! An anvil?!” He jokes. 

“Oh you know just books, and binders, and all of the essentials.” She replies, as she follows him out of the room and up the flight of stairs. “Binders are my life I even carry an empty back-up binder in case of binder related emergencies.” 

She watches him stifle a laugh, and silently nod.

The walk to his office is silent, and a little awkward. She isn’t sure how close together they're supposed to be walking, so she opts to walk half a step behind him to maintain what she believes to be, super chill, respectable distance. 

“I like your office,” she blurts out once he has unlocked the door and ushered her inside. 

He smiles and politely offers her a seat, “I’m not sure if it counts as an office, it’s really more of a cupboard with a desk.”

“And books, lots of interesting books, I love political biographies,” Leslie remarks gesturing to the tiny bookshelf with dusty copies stacked up to the ceiling. “I’m going to write them, that’s my passion, I’m going to write about all of the wonderful and amazing women in our history so that everyone can read them and learn more about the incredible women who shaped our nation, and then they’ll know that ladies can be some of the greatest, and smartest, and most supportive people in the world, and in history, ever!” 

He’s smiling at her now, and there’s a look in his eye she can’t quite place. She probably shouldn’t have followed him to his office because now she’s starting to sweat and she can’t stop talking. And now that she’s sitting so close to him in his tiny office she can make out the five o’clock shadow that’s dusting his jawline, and fuck why does he have to be so attractive?

When he asks to see her essay plan, she excitedly searches through her bag before pulling out a large pink binder, “You’ll see that I’m very thorough,” Leslie remarks, as she slides several stapled pages out of their folder.

He cocks an eyebrow as he slowly begins to scan the pages, “Oh you weren’t joking, this is a lot of prep work, I’m very impressed. If you want to email this to me then I can give you some feedback, but I think you’re definitely on track.”

“Or,” she begins without even realising the words are coming out of her mouth, “You can keep this now, and write your comments on it, and then you can bring it to the student/staff quiz tonight and give it back to me.” She watches his expression change into a smirk. “Well I mean, you are the professor, so obviously you don’t need to rush, and I’m not demanding you read over it now, I’m sure you’re a very busy–” 

He cuts her off by raising his hand and smiling, “Yes, I uhh, will be attending the quiz this evening. You’re clearly keen to get started on this paper so I’m happy to oblige.”

“Thank you,” she beams, “I really appreciate it, I’m sorry sometimes I sound aggressive, I’m just really passionate about learning.”

He smiles, “I’m glad to hear it, I am too.” They sit in a comfortable silence for a moment, she knows this is her cue to thank him, gather her things, and head for the door, but something is stopping her from doing so.

She thinks he must just be tired from teaching all day, and he might just be a little slow, and that’s why he hasn’t told her to leave the room yet. She’s too caught up in her own thoughts, spending too much time panicking over her school girl-like crush on the man opposite her, to notice the way he’s looking at her.

And later that night, after she leads Quizteam-a Aguilera to a stunning victory, she almost misses a cell phone number scribbled at the bottom of the last page of her essay plan with a note next to it that reads, “if you ever have a binder related emergency, use this number. I know a guy who has access to an unlimited supply of them.”

Oh. Maybe it's not just her.


End file.
